


Paper Kingdom

by legendarytozier



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - No IT (King), Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-19 12:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14237685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendarytozier/pseuds/legendarytozier
Summary: A broken prince. A corrupt chancellor. A sin fuelled priest. An angry princess. A wise court gentleman. A drunken knight. A secretive lord.Seven souls, intertwined in some way beyond their control. A kingdom, on the verge of crumbling. A life they will never forget._______________________A Royalty IT AU





	1. Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> Hi my babes! I'm finally writing a whole story, not just a one shot! I don't know how long this will be, but I have a lot of ideas and I'm very excited to write this. The kids are 16/17 right now, but it's going to shift into them being over 18 pretty quick. I guess it's really not IT centric at all, but I'm going to give the characters as much book related qualities as possible :) I hope ya'll enjoy! xx.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Homophobic language, mild abuse

“You do not realize how big a deal this is, do you?”

Stanley Uris knew how big of a deal this was. He just did not care. He really, really, could not have cared less.

The Great Rose Ball was coming up in three days, and Stan was doing everything in his power to avoid the whole house. He knew exactly what the point of the ball was; to set him up with a very eligible princess for a future marriage. To secure the vast kingdom that his father ruled over, and to expand it even further through selling his son’s body. Okay, that last bit was a tad dramatic, but it was mostly true. Stan knew he had to court this girl and marry her and raise kids with her and eventually pass the kingdom onto them, too. But the idea was so unappealing to Stan, he got physically nauseous thinking too hard about it. Nothing repulsed him more than the perfect, overly rehearsed “you’re-soon-to-be-king” speech his dad gave him so often.

Stan sat at the dining room table with his father and mother, though his mother was so quiet that it was almost as if she wasn’t there. Stan picked at the threads of his red and gold tunic, silently cursing the itchy fabric for making this already uncomfortable breakfast conversation even worse.

“This is going to make all the difference for you. I want to be passing the throne onto you in a few years, I want you to be ready, have a wife who will make an excellent queen, I want you to have a son who you can- “

“Then pass the throne onto, thus continuing the line and this family’s excellent heritage and control over such a large dominion of land. I get it, father, I know. I will fuck a girl and give you everything you could ever want, please just stop talking about it.” Stan said so tiredly, and his mother choked on her tea, the first noise she had made since they sat down.

“Stanley! Do not speak that way, especially to your father!” She said quickly, clutching the pristine pearls around her neck as if they’d somehow ground her. Stan rolled his eyes.

“May I be excused?” He said sharply, but he didn’t wait for their answer. Stan stood quickly from the table and took off down the hall, listening to his mother whisper yell at his dad, but is father only huff in frustration. _Good,_ Stan thought, _give up on me. I’ll never be what you want._

Stan’s only regret in life thus far was being born into the royal line. Which, then, made him regret most things in his life, but mostly it was just his lineage. He was sick of being told exactly how to live his life, and who he could be seen with. It was tiring, and frankly, quite boring. He never got to see anyone except his parents and his only friend, Benjamin Hanscom.

Ben was the son of the high chancellor, the right-hand man to the king, and would eventually be Stan’s right-hand man as well. Their fathers believed it would be good for them to become close before Stan’s induction as king, but little did they know, the two boys bonding over distaste for their roles only fueled their fire to hate what they were born to do. They constantly bickered over what was required of them, and dreamed of running off to live a life of delinquency. Ben wanted to make obscene amounts of coin robbing small bars and riding off into the night with fair maidens, but Stan mostly just wanted a small cottage in the woods to watch birds all day. His lack of desire to sleep with copious amounts of women shocked Ben, but he accepted it. More for him, as he would say.

Stan entered his room and flung himself onto his bed. The sun was warming the sheets and his cheeks, making this Sunday at least somewhat bearable. He took in a deep breath, holding it in for as long as he could, before he breathed out, letting his anxiety wash out with it. Arguing with his parents wasn’t Stan’s favourite pastime, but it seemed to be a recurring one. He heard the door click open, and was about to yell at whoever it was when he saw it was Ben, and flung himself back down.

“Oh, honey, you are a sight for sore eyes,” Ben said, sitting down next to Stan. Stan still didn’t move, but grumbled in response. This made Ben laugh. “You know we have church in like an hour, right? And your mother will fling herself off the top of this castle if you are not there and presentable.” Stan sighed again, but pushed himself up on strong arms.

“I am presentable. This is a nice shirt,” he said, and Ben laughed again.

“Okay, sure, whatever you say. Oh, before I forget, we need to go through the names of all the ladies coming to the ball, so you at least have a half decent idea of who it is you’re going to be meeting with, and you can act like you care about them.” Stan rolled his eyes at this, and walked towards the large window overlooking the ocean. He had insisted on being moved from his childhood bedroom that overlooked the city below to one on the other side of the castle, where he could admire the rolling sea. If he cracked open his window, he could smell the salty air hear the crash of the waves on the rocks. Sometimes he could admire the birds that flew around the coastline, and he dreamed of one day escaping into the forest on the other side of the kingdom to track all the gorgeous birds. It was one of the few things that kept him from truly killing himself, the knowledge that there was freedom and beauty out there.

“I know them all. All of their names, their parents’ names, their home countries, everything. I might as well know their shoe size at this rate,” Stan said grumpily, and it was Ben’s turn to sigh.

“I know, mate. I know it sucks. But both our asses will be nailed to the fucking wall if we don’t get this perfect. It’s so bloody important. This sucks, but let’s do it so we don’t have to get reamed out after,” Ben said softly, coming up beside him to admire the view as well. Ben thought about stealing a boat in the middle of the night and escaping to some far-off land just as much as Stan did, but he was more secretive of it. To be fair, he couldn’t just openly complain about his hate for the monarchy like Stan did; he’d lose his job, his father as well. They’d be deemed threats to the crown, and that would ruin his life of luxury. They only whispered of such things in the dead of night, in the library pouring over maps and books, lit by a single candle, when they were sure no one would hear them. It was their most precious bonding time, and it made the day much more bearable.

“Okay. After church, we can go through them again, although I can assure you I will ace it,” Stan said, and he flung his arm around Ben. Ben laughed.

“I know you will.”

Just as the two were laughing and enjoying the moment, a knock came from the door, and they both whipped around. Stan’s mother poked her head in, before stepping inside fully.

“Oh, hello Ben, will you be joining us for church this morning?” She said, smiling at him. Ben was the son that his mother had always wanted; punctual, always dressed immaculately, knew the kingdom better than her real son did. Stan wondered if she would replace him with Ben if the opportunity ever presented itself. Ben gave her a bow, and she smiled even brighter, which made Stan roll his eyes. Ben didn’t need to bow before her every time she came in the room, but he did it because he knew his mother lived for it. She was designed for a life of complacent queendom, never doing much but loving every minute of the royal treatment.

“Of course, your Highness, I wouldn’t miss it. Stanley and I were just discussing our plan to go over the lovely ladies and their families that would be attending the ball afterwards,” Ben said cheerily, smiling slightly over at Stan, who nodded his thanks. He knew this would put both of them in the Queen’s good books for the day. She clapped her hands together once, signaling her joy at the idea.

“Oh, splendid. I’m so glad you can get our boy here to understand how important this is for everyone,” she said, and Stan could hear the bitter taste in her mouth, recalling his outburst this morning.

“I’m not his boy, mother, and I’m not yours either. I am going to behave myself at the ball, please have a little faith in me,” Stan said, walking over to place a swift kiss on his mother’s cheek, pushing her gently back into the hall. “I always do what I’m told when it comes down to it.”

“I know you do. I love you. Please be at the church doors in an hour, and for the love of God, change your tunic,” she said, and Stan heard Ben stifle a laugh into his hand. This queued yet another eye roll from Stan.

“Yes, mama. Of course. Love you too.” And with that, Stan shut the door, leaning against it and letting out a very long breath. Ben broke into full blown laughter now, and Stan scowled at him. “You’re an asshole, Benjamin.”

“And yet, you love me, Stanley. Say, let me make it up to you. Want to get drunk before church? I snuck a bottle of red wine from my dad’s stash,” Ben said, and this made Stan perk up.

“Why didn’t you lead with that statement? That is the only good idea you’ve had all day.”

_____________________________________

 

Safe to say, Stan and Ben were sufficiently drunk when they arrived at the church doors with three minutes to spare. They were out of breath from running all the way there, giggling and hollering down the hallways as they went. Ben’s black shirt had come untucked from his black pants, and Stan’s new blue and gold tunic had slid off his shoulder to reveal a golden expanse of skin. As soon as they approached the doors, they turned to assist in fixing one another, giggling like school girls as they did so.

“We are a mess, Stan, this is so going to get us in trouble,” Ben said in a hoarse whisper.

“Oh, the absolute worst trouble. But at least we won’t want to die in this damn mass.”

Just then, the door flung open, and Stan’s dad was waiting with Ben’s dad beside him. The two boys turned their faces to stone, and gave a curt bow to their king.

“Morning boys, nice of you to join us,” Ben’s father said, and Stan snickered. They followed the older men in, taking a seat in the front row. There were quite a few people here, at least everyone in the castle had made an attendance. Stan tried to remember if today was a special day of sorts; nothing came to mind. Stan’s mind was so extremely fuzzy though, that he wouldn’t have known left from right at that point. He sat stiffly beside his father, with Ben right behind him. He hoped he didn’t reek to much of wine.

As the church doors opened, the entire room stood, and Stan felt a little wobbly on his feet. He knew he maybe shouldn’t have drank so much, but it also felt rather exhilarating to be such a mess at such a serious function.

The priest walked in, carrying the heavily diamond encrusted bible, and Stan internally scoffed at the gaudy thing. It looked so tremendously ridiculous, and the jewels alone would probably have fed an entire family for a year down in the village, and yet here they were, decorating their holy books with them. It was so ostentatious. As Stan was admiring the book, he almost didn’t notice the tall lanky body that followed the priest in and took up residence in the back of the church podium, holding a singular candle. He had the most beautiful blue eyes Stan had ever seen, and his short brown hair brushed delicately against his forehead. His skin was pale, and Stan trailed his eyes down the expanse of his neck just before it was obscured by his clerical collar. He couldn’t stop staring at the boy, who had to be the same age as Stan. How had he never seen him before? He knew almost everyone in the castle at least a little, and Stan was certain he’d never seen this boy before. Stan’s hands grew clammy, and he had a sudden urge to take a bath and cleanse himself of whatever he was feeling. It was ridiculous, his heart was about to stammer out of his chest. Stan stared until the boy’s eyes drifted over to him, and he was caught in that intense stare. The boy gave him a small smile, more of a smirk really, and turned his eyes back to the priest. Stan stumbled a bit, and he felt Ben’s hands on his back to steady him. He couldn’t have been more grateful for his friend right then.

As soon as it came time to receive the body of Christ, Stan had rightly sobered up. He hadn’t heard a single word the priest was saying, but had admired the thin boy stood off to the side, silently listening, never moving. Stan’s heart was going to explode if he had to stay in that stuffy church any longer. They lined up to receive their bread, and of course Stan ended up in the line that lead straight to the boy. He gulped as he drew closer to him, each person receiving their bread and moving off to the side. As soon as Stan was directly in front of the boy, he almost fainted. He was even more beautiful up close, and the sun shining through the stained-glass window above had him illuminated in a heavenly glow. Stan opened his mouth, and the boy gently placed the piece of bread on his tongue, hand lingering for far too long. He winked at Stan, and Stan quickly turned to the right and away from the front of the church. He eyed the path he needed to take to get to his seat, but the feeling in his stomach and the wine in his belly had him sprinting out the church doors and down the cool hallway.

Stan ran until his lungs burned, and he was as far from the church as possible. He heaved in deep ragged breaths, cursing himself. He made it so obvious! He should have just stayed in there and sat through the last bit of the mass! Stan’s vision began to cloud, and the deep breaths he had been taking grew shorter and shorter, and he was choking for air, clawing at his throat. With his vision swimming, he nearly fell flat on his back, a nearby wall the only thing to catch him. Before he knew it, footfalls came running up towards him, and hands were on his back, rubbing soothing circles, whispering that he would be alright. Stan’s vision began to come back, and the hateful panic began to subside. Only one person knew how to calm him down, and he was grateful Ben had found him.

“Hey, buddy, let’s sit, okay?” Ben said softly, kindness leeching through his words. The two fell to the ground and Stan leaned on Ben’s shoulders, while the boy rubbed circles onto Stan’s knee, calming him. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Ben asked, but Stan shook his head. He wouldn’t have even known how to explain the feelings he had experienced in there. It was as if all the air had been ripped from him and the only two people in the world were Stan and the altar boy. The feeling was terrifying but also… good? Stan had felt really good? That was what scared Stan the most. He knew the feeling, and seen it in Ben’s eyes when a particularly beautiful lady passed through the castle; lust. But Stan was a boy, and the altar boy was obviously a boy, and boys didn’t feel this way about other boys, especially when they were on a path to marrying a girl within the next year or so. This wasn’t right! Stan felt sick all over again, and considered heaving right there on the ground in front of himself.

“What the fuck is wrong with me, Ben?” Stan asked, and Ben opened his mouth to respond when another pair of footfalls sounded through the marble hall. Both boys looked in the direction, and Stan felt his heart sink to his black boots. It was the altar boy, running towards them with a glass of water. He slowed as he approached, and knelt before the two boys. He gently passed the cup to Stan, and he took it with a small smile, avoiding eye contact with the boy. He took small sips, and the cold water helped ground him.

“What’s your name?” Ben asked, and the boy looked shocked, before opening his mouth to speak.

“W-William, sir. B-bill for sh-sh-short,” the boy said, and Stan finally looked up at him, the stuttering making him curious. Bill looked bashful, hiding his face a bit as his cheeks burned a bright red.

“Bill. Okay. Do you always stutter like that, or are you nervous?” Ben asked, not wanting to beat around the bush.

“Always, s-sir.” Bill said, looking back up at the two of them. He locked eyes with Stan, and Stan never wanted to look away.

“Ah. I see,” Ben said, giving him a look up and down, and then turning to glance briefly at Stan. Ben saw the look the two were giving one another, and realization coursed through him like hot lava.

“I don’t mind it. Nice to meet you, Bill,” Stan said, sticking his hand out for Bill to shake. He did so with a smile, and Stan almost died on the spot. Bill had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. Stan thought of his favourite flower; tulip, and if Bill was a flower, he’d be exactly that, soft and perfect, a range of beautiful colours that made Stan’s heart sing whenever he visited the fields of them. He melted into a little puddle right there on the tile, smiling back.

“You as w-well, your H-highness,” Bill said softly, still obviously very conscious of his stutter. “I b-better get b-b-back to the priest, he’ll b-be looking f-for m-me,” Bill said, standing and bowing, before taking off sprinting down the hall. Stan watched him go, and only turned to see Ben staring at him with a huge smirk.

“What?” Stan said, incredulous. Ben only laughed.

“We are so fucked, my friend,” Ben said, giggling softly.

“Please don’t tell anyone. Not until I figure out what the fuck is wrong with me,” Stan said, more to the floor than to Ben.

“I would never. Not my secret to tell. Also, nothing is wrong with you. However, I think this is going to make the whole “marrying a princess and impregnating her” thing a little more difficult,” Ben said, and Stan groaned, dropping his head into his lap, only making Ben laugh even more.

_____________________________________

 

“You did what?!” The priest shouted, and Bill cowered even lower into himself, if at all possible. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything, but honesty meant so much to him, that he couldn’t just lie about where he’d been.

“H-he was just ab-b-bout dying! I had to d-do something!” Bill scrambled to come up with an answer. He saw how Stan took off after he’d given him the bread, and he felt guilty. He was just so handsome, and Bill knew Stan had been staring at him the entire mass. He couldn’t help himself. The priest gripped at the bridge of his nose, and Bill knew exactly what was coming. He might as well set himself up for it, maybe it would lead to less lashes. “F-forgive me, f-father, for I h-have sinned. Please, p-punish me for my c-crimes,” Bill said softly, removing his shirt to expose his already marred skin. He faced the table in the back-altar room, and gripped the edge. He heard the priest wander over to a cupboard in the corner and pull out the whip. Bill bit back tears that threatened to fall; it hadn’t even begun yet. As the priest approached, he whispered behind Bill.

“You will regret ever being born, you disgusting sin filled monster. May God forgive you for your indecency.” Bill heard the priest wind up, before cracking the whip down on Bill’s back, five times, and Bill was a mess on the floor by the end. The priest left Bill to gather himself, and he did so slowly, tenderly pulling on his shirt and grabbing a salve to rub on his back. He composed himself, sucking in a few deep breaths, and wiping away his tears.

This wasn’t new, and it surely wouldn’t end any time soon. Bill’s lustful feelings towards men had gotten him into this life of priesthood to begin with, his father sending him here after catching him in the hay of their barn kissing another boy. Since then, he’d been training under Father Walton, and hating every horrible moment. If there was a God, he surely wouldn’t accept Bill into heaven, not after the thoughts he had. And that was okay with Bill, he had accepted his fate, doomed to hell for his feelings for boys, and that was that. He took his punishment with gritted teeth, and told himself only two more years until he was 18 and free from this place, free to run for the hills. He could last that long. He had to. There wasn’t another option.

Freedom was a dream too sweet to let it die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what ya'll think! I'm going to add tags/relationships as we go, so I don't give away any super major plot points. I will give warnings before every chapter if there are things I feel need to be warned, like smut, violence, etc. I want to add Mike in here but I'm having a hard time deciding on a role for him, but hopefully he'll be here eventually :) All my love to you guys! xx.  
> TUMBLR: legendarytozier (come say hi/see my inspo moodboards!)


	2. Be Careful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: drinking, drugs, mild kissing

The day of the Great Ball. Stan wasn’t sure what made it so great, they had dances all the time, but he figured it had something to do with the fact that he was going to be picking a wife. A future queen, someone to rule beside him. _I guess that would make it kind of a big deal_ , Stan thought. He had woken up extra early to sneak away before he was going to be forced into breakfast, and meetings, and lunch, and more meetings, and dinner, before MORE meetings, and then the ball. He was currently laying on a rock by the ocean, watching the seagulls above him, taking little notes of their flying patterns. The serenity of it all was almost enough to make him skip the ball entirely, but frankly he enjoyed his throat, and he knew his mother would rip it out if he skipped. Stan breathed deeply, inhaling the salty air, and reveling in how perfect the feeling was as it filled his lungs.

“I’d say I’m shocked that you’re out here, but I am not,” Ben said from behind him, and Stan flung himself into a sitting position, startled.

“How did you know where I was?” Stan said. Ben shrugged.

“I’m not stupid. Where else would you be? Not in the castle, that’s for damn sure. It’s a nightmare in there. My job revolves around organization and planning and even I fucking hate it in there,” Ben said, taking a seat beside Stan. They both fell into comfortable silence, admiring the view before them. An unspoken conversation happened between, the promise to get the hell out of that place before they died. To see the world, and not just the tiny bubble they lived in currently. Stan turned to admire his best friend. Ben had lost quite a bit of weight since they were twelve, but he still packed enough weight and muscle to be intimidating, in a dashing sort of way. Stan knew that Ben liked to sneak off to train with the knights, earning him a title as a sort of castle badass. Stan had gone to see him once, and watched him take on four knights at once, knocking them all on their ass before laughing and helping them up. It was sort of admiring to watch. His sandy brown hair had turned blonder in the sun, and his brown eyes were always watching, and Stan knew that he saw everything, knew everything. He felt a sort of wave of affection crash over him for his friend, and how amazing of a high chancellor he was going to be.

“Hey, you know you’re my best friend, right?” Stan said, and Ben smiled, his eyes still closed.

“I’m your only friend,” Ben said, and Stan knocked their shoulders together, laughing.

“I mean it though. I think that I would have killed myself by now if it weren’t for you.” This made Ben open his eyes and turn to really look at Stan.

It was Ben’s turn to admire his friend. Stan had grown tall, and very handsome, in his teenage years and if Ben had any sort of desire for men, Stan would have been his first choice. His golden curls were always perfect, despite Stan not doing anything to them. His eyes were brown, but just the right shade that made it impossible to look away. He had one dimple in his cheek that came out on the rare chance that Stan smiled, and Ben knew it drove women wild around the castle. He heard some servant girls whispering about him all the time, his hair and body and smile and impeccable style. He was quite the star, and he would make a very popular king.

“Well, I’m glad you think of me that way. You’re my best friend too, man. You could have been a real asshole to me, being the future king and all,” Ben said through a smile, making Stan smile also. There was that dimple, Ben thought. Yeah, he was going to a real heartbreaker if the kingdom found out it wasn’t women he liked, but men. “I hate to ruin this touchy-feely mood, but we really have to go inside. Your mom was in a tizzy when she sent me to find you, and that was at least a half hour ago.” Stan sighed at that, and the smile was gone.

“Yeah. Fuck. Okay, let’s go.”

_____________________________________

 

Inside was a fucking warzone.

Everywhere that Stan walked, there was another person in his path. Some wanted to speak with him, others were simply just trying to get the ballroom decorated and organized. He had been through a few meetings, but they really never required his presence, it was more of a customary move. Stan felt panic creep up on him as he left his father’s study, and the only thing keeping him grounded was Ben pressed to his side, arms linked together. Stan might have asked Ben to marry him had he not known Ben’s affinity for women. God knows he’d run the kingdom a whole hell of a lot better.

“Stanley! Oh, my goodness, Stanley, there you are, we have to go right now. We have six outfit ideas in your room, and I need you to try them all. I want to know exactly which one you look best in, you have to be as impressive as possible,” Stan’s mother cried, gripping him by the cheeks. He shook out of her grasp, and looked to Ben for help. Ben sighed, before looking up at the queen.

“You know our Stanley is going to woo over the entire ballroom even if he showed up in a potato sack. Look at that face, that dimple! Such a handsome bastard,” Ben said, also pinching his cheek, which was not the kind of help Stan was looking for, but his mother smiled nonetheless.

“Of course. You’re going to look perfect. But I don’t want you in a potato sack, so let us go.”

The walk to Stan’s room was uncomfortable, the tension he felt radiating from his mother very palpable. As soon as they entered, Stan wanted to vomit. At least eight young servant girls were standing in his room, whispering quietly to themselves, but the fell to silence as soon as he stepped in.

“Ladies,” Stan acknowledged them with a nod, and they all curtsied and blushed tremendous shades of red. Stan wished he found women desirable; this would have been a wet dream.

“Okay, Stanley, we’re going to go through them all, and then I think Ben and I can come decide on the best one.” Stan wanted to cry when she said this. Just another thing she had to control, and he did not get a single say. Typical.

“Actually, your Highness, I think the best choice would come from Stan himself. I promise I’ll make him pick. Why don’t you go along and take care of yourself? Maybe a bath? I can assure everything is going along schedule perfectly,” Ben said to the queen, and Stan could have died from thankfulness. His mother looked as though she might say something, but thought better of it.

“You’re right, Benjamin. I need to get myself ready. Thank you so much,” she said, and gave Ben a quick kiss on the cheek. He bowed as she left, along with a few of her servant girls. Now Stan was positive that she would have traded Stan in for Ben in a heartbeat. As soon as she left, Ben let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Fuck, that could have been disastrous. I could see you two killing each other in my mind, it wasn’t pretty.” Stan giggled, and flopped onto his bed. He was so used to having a million people in his business, that having all those girls in the room didn’t faze him. He knew they’d never say anything to the queen; they feared her as much as Stan did.

“Alright, let’s get this started. And I am saying right off the bat that I’m not wearing the pink or purple outfits, it’s not fucking happening,” The two girls pulled their outfits down, and hung them back up in the closet. “I’ll try the other four though.” And Stan got right to stripping down to his underwear. He had no issues being naked in front of all these people, and he knew that as much as he wasn’t interested in them, it was a treat for the girls. Stan wouldn’t deny his own attractiveness, and he knew how some of the girls felt about him around here. He wasn’t an idiot.

“Okay, let’s start with the navy blue. I think it’s your worst colour, but I’m willing to give it a try,” Ben said, and flopped down on his bed, making himself comfortable. The ladies quickly helped Stan into the ensemble, fingertips grazing his skin as much as possible. Once he was dressed, Ben gagged. “Next!”

And they did this for each outfit, finally deciding on a deep emerald green suit, complementing Stan’s tan complexion from the sun, as Ben said. Stan trusted him on more pressing issues than this, and didn’t question him. Admiring himself in the mirror, Stan believed that this was his best look out of them all, and nodded at the ladies in waiting behind him.

“Thank you, ladies, we’re going to stick with the green. You are dismissed,” Stan said softly, and kissed each of their hands as they curtsied and left the room. As soon as the door shut behind the last girl, he could hear their squeals and giggles, and smiled to himself. His mother was always so rude to the servants, but Stan saw no point. They did their job well and were always kind, there was no shame in being kind back.

“Alright, heartbreaker, you’ve done well. Now we have approximately two hours until we need to be walking into that ballroom, if we lock the door, we could probably hide away until then?” Ben said, holding out his hands. Stan walked over and grabbed them, pulling Ben into a standing position.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Stan asked, a mischievous glint in his eye. Ben smirked back.

“DRUNK!” They shouted in unison, before toppling over onto the bed in laughter. Ben pulled the bottle out from underneath a secret latch tucked into Stan’s bed, where they kept all their contraband. Stan grabbed cups from a glass cupboard, and poured each of them a glass. They took up residency in the nook of Stan’s window seat, and waited to watch the spectacle of carriages and fancy guests arrive.

_____________________________________

 

The ballroom had been decorated to the nines, and Ben was actually impressed by the amount of work that had gone in to making it look absolutely perfect. He twisted his neck and cracked it, having stood by the main doors greeting guests for at least an hour. Stan was to walk in after everyone had arrived, and then the real event was to begin, dancing and drinking the night away. Stan’s father had made the boys promise to be reasonable with their alcohol, giving them a wink as he walked away. The two boys had been taken aback, Stan’s father never let them drink in public. He had all but expressly told them to drink whatever they’d like, and Ben was itching to grasp one of the glasses of rum that was swirling around the room of waiter trays.

He shook the hand of a man with a deep complexion, smiling with a bow at his daughter. She had on a frilly pink dress that was four times as wide as she was, internally cringing at the sight of it. Almost every girl in the room had on some sort of pastel shade; blue, pink, yellow, green, all of which would look horribly gaudy next to Stan’s deep emerald suit. But that was a matter of little issue, since it wasn’t the girls dress that was going to woo over Stan. Frankly, after learning about Stan’s new affection for Bill, and men in general, through late night talks after the Sunday church mishap, nothing aesthetically about these women was going to win over his future king. The women would have to be smart, and cunning, and care about issues below skin deep. If Stan was going to have to spend his whole life cuddled up to some women, she had to be his equal, or he knew that Stan would just simply run away or worse, kill himself.

Ben bit back a yawn, but nearly choked on his own breath when the next family walked in. An older woman with cascading red hair walked in, wearing a black gown and veil that covered most of her hair. Ben recognized her immediately as the Queen of Ireland. Her husband, King Alvin, had recently died in some gruesome murder, and the killer was yet to be caught. She was very obviously in mourning, and Ben bowed even deeper to pay his respects.

“Queen Elfrida, an honour that you were able to make it to this evening. I offer my greatest condolences to you in this trying time,” Ben’s father offered, gently kissing her knuckles. She smiled weakly.

“Thank you for inviting us. Alvin would have loved this. It is a welcome distraction during this… difficult period,” she said, and made room for her daughter to step up next to her. What Ben saw took his breath away, and he almost fainted right there.

Stood next to the queen was the princess. Princess Beverly, if he recalled correctly. Her fiery hair was cut into a short bob, a change from the typical long tresses of other princesses. She wore a dress coloured the deepest maroon, and despite his own overwhelming lust for her, he thought of how nice she would have looked standing next to Stan’s green. She was stunning, an absolute vision, but her face was stone cold, not a lick of emotion creeping through. She curtsied before Ben, and he took her hand gently.

“M’lady, you look incredible this evening,” he said, and the smallest smile crept up to her mouth, but she quickly shut it down.

“Thank you, Benjamin,” she said, and he was shocked to hear her say his name. This made her smile crack again, and Ben thought he would never want to see anything ever again if it meant she smiled all the time.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I allowed Beverly to bring her court gentleman, Edward Kaspbrak. He has been so helpful to my dear Bevvie with everything that has happened. I think he is a comfort to us both, honestly,” the queen said, and Ben’s father nodded his head.

“Of course, your Highness, the more the merrier.” A boy stepped through the door then, dressed in an entirely white outfit with silver detailing. On anyone else, it might have looked stupid, but the boy made it look so dashing. He was short, the same height as the princess, but fit. He had piercing eyes and soft brown hair, and a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts. Ben thought he might have felt a little gay there, but quickly brushed it way when he shook hands with the boy. Those were Stan’s thought, not his own.

“A pleasure to meet you, Edward,” Ben said, and Edward smiled.

“Please, call me Eddie,” he said, and Ben realized his voice was just as luxurious as his outfit. Smooth, and sexy even when he said something as mundane as ‘please’. If Ben were anyone else, he might have gasped. Ben’s father knocked him out of his daydream when he spoke.

“Well, please, enjoy the pleasantries,” he said, and waved them down to ballroom floor. They took off down the steps, and Ben admired how nice Beverly and Eddie looked tucked against one another. It was enough to leave a man with certain thoughts, but he looked away to rid himself of them. He sighed in relief when he realized they were the last to arrive, and all the niceness and hand shaking was down. Ben’s father patted him on the back, and smiled at him.

“You did excellent, son. Proud of you, you’re going to be amazing at this job.” Ben beamed up at him, appreciating the praise.

A trumpet sounded, signalling the attention of everyone in room. The prince was to enter, and Ben felt a little nervous bubble form in his stomach for his friend. Stan hated such overwhelming attention, and Ben knew he’d be a mess behind those closed doors. As soon as the ballroom fell silent, the court marshal announced Stanley, listing off his many titles, and the doors clicked open. Stan entered, walking more gracefully than Ben could have hoped. He came over to shake Ben’s hand, a customary move, and winked at him. Ben could see how blown Stan’s pupils were, and immediately knew; _he’s high on opium._ Ben gasped a little, and tried to minimize his shock. Drunk AND high? That wasn’t something the boys dabbled in. He knew his friend had been nervous, but opium? He’d be lucky if he remembered this night at all.

Stan turned and walked down the steps perfectly, smiling down at the people who were whispering amongst themselves, especially the young ladies. Stan really did look handsome, emanating a vibe of power and regality. Despite Ben’s concern for how absolutely messed up Stan would be right now, he had to admit, he commanded the room like this. Ben made a mental note to pull him aside and check on him as soon as possible. Before he knew it, the music began playing an upbeat tempo, and chatter recommenced, and Ben was swept into the swirl of it all.

_____________________________________

 

Stan had danced with at least a hundred people, he was dead sure of it.

Well, maybe not one hundred, but close to it. He had had his ear talked off, thankfully remembering everyone’s names and where they had come from, before dancing with all the visiting girls. They had been sweet, complimenting him and asking him vague questions, but none had struck his heart. He felt so disengaged, even as the opium wore off. It had certainly made the night tolerable, but the effects were leaving him, and he felt incredibly drained. He knew his father would expect a full report on the evening, who he thought was eligible enough, who he wanted to _marry._ It was such a scary thought, he couldn’t think of a single girl that had really captured his attention. He wanted someone he could rule the kingdom with by his side, to offer opinions and help make decisions. An equal, not a lesser. Stan would just die if all his wife wanted was to have babies and gossip with the other women of the castle. He didn’t even like women, she had to be incredibly special to win his heart.

A tap on his shoulder as Stan stood off to the side pulled him from his reverie. He wasn’t sure he could dance with another girl, but as he turned, his breath was ripped from his chest.

A girl with the most beautiful red hair stood before him, dressed in a sensual maroon that was so different than the pastels of all the other ladies. She smiled softly, offering her hand. Stan took it gladly.

“Your Highness, an honor to meet you. I’m Princess Beverly, but Bev is perfectly fine,” she said, and Stan bent to kiss her hand. He smiled as he came back up to stand; she smelled of roses.

“Stan is good for me. It is a pleasure to meet you as well. Would you like to dance?” Stan found himself saying, and she nodded softly. He took her hand in his and they walked out to the floor, people clearing out of their way. A softer tempo was played just then, and Stan was grateful for the change of pace.

“So, Bev, tell me something about yourself,” Stan asked her, pulling out a stuffy accent, and Bev giggled.

“Well, I’m 16, turning 17 in a few days here. I’m from Ireland. I am an only child, and I-“

“No, no,” Stan said, effectively cutting her off, softening from his formal tone. “Tell me something about _you._ What do you like, what are your hobbies, future goals… something I can’t read in a book,” Stan said, and she smiled even more bright.

“Okay. I love walking the garden at night, but I’m terribly afraid of the spiders out there. My favourite color is red, but a deep red, nothing gaudy and dizzying. If I wasn’t a princess, I’d probably be a horologist. That’s someone who studies the stars. They’re so fascinating and I wish to travel the world and map them out. But for now, since I am stuck in the castle, I am spending my time with the seamstresses, designing the court dresses. I made my dress for tonight.” Stan spun her out, so he could admire the dress again. It was such a deep colour, and it had tiny little rubies sewn into the neckline and bodice. It hugged her perfectly, and the bottom was full but not overwhelming that Stan couldn’t pull her close to him again when he spun her back in.

“Wow. You look so incredible. I wanted to say something earlier, but I wasn’t quite sure how. You stand out… but in a good way. It really is amazing, Bev. And I admire your love of the stars. I guess I’ve never put much thought into them before, but I can see that being an interesting line of work,” Stan said, and he meant it. No other lady had mentioned a pastime other than patchwork and gossip, so Beverly’s desire to study the stars and make clothes was a welcome breath of fresh air.

“Thank you, that means a lot coming from the Crown Prince,” she said, blushing. “What about you, Stan? What do you like, what are your dreams?” She asked, and he smiled. Again, no one had bothered to ask anything of Stan, all the girls having studied the basic facts of his life before he came, just as he had them.

“Hmm… well I would also like to explore the world, but I want to study birds. They are such fascinating creatures, so heavily adapted, I want to know everything about them, learn everything that I can. But, like you, I’m stuck in a castle, so I resort to admiring the gulls on the beach.” Stan cast his eyes downwards, never have admitting that to anyone but Ben. But Bev just smiled.

“I love that. It’s amazing to find someone with so much power able to admire the beauty of nature. Have you ever gone out to the forest? To watch the birds there?” Bev asked, and Stan shook his head.

“No. I’m not really allowed to just wander out there. Sometimes my father invites me on hunting trips but I am really less than interested in killing animals for sport.”

“Understandable. I don’t eat meat, so that’s definitely not something I’d be interested in either. But maybe you could go and just hang back? Watch the birds? Feign that you’d rather watch the others hunt?” Beverly suggested, and Stan mulled it over in his mind.

“That’s… not a bad idea. I could try that. Thank you, Beverly,” Stan said honestly, and she looked a little bashful at that. Just as the song came to an end, the two stepped apart and Beverly curtsied, and Stan gave a sweeping bow. Everyone had stopped to look at the two of them, how perfect they had seemed dancing together, comfortable in each other’s arms already. Stan knew right then and there that he had made his decision.

He wanted Beverly to be his queen.

_____________________________________

 

The rest of the night dragged on, and Stan danced with plenty more girls, none of them comparing to Beverly. She had a fire in her, one that made his heart sing with joy. She was a kindred spirit, longing for the escape. Sure, maybe he wasn’t itching to sleep with her, but he figured that if he had to copulate with any of the women here, Bev would be his best bet.

As he was hiding in a dark corner off to the side of the ballroom to watch the people mull about and hoping they’d all leave soon, Stan felt a tap on his shoulder. He whipped around, expecting another princess, but what greeted him was much better. Bill was standing there, a small smile on his face. He was wearing a black shirt with grey pants, but his clerical collar was gone. He looked comfortable, leaning against a post, one hand in his pocket. It was such a comfortable stance, and Stan enjoyed seeing him look less uptight than at church. Stan grinned brightly.

“Hi Bill,” Stan said, and Bill pulled him farther into the thick drapery.

“H-hi Stan. How’s the n-night treating y-you?” He asked, stutter prominent but not distracting.

“Not great, if I’m honest. If I have to dance with one more lady I’m going to just die, right there on the floor,” Stan said, stepping closer to Bill to whisper to him, hoping no one would overhear and interrupt them. Bill laughed, and it was similar to angels singing, honestly.

“N-none of them ap-p-ppealing candidates f-for the queen?” Bill asked, still laughing. Stan felt his heart confirm that it wasn’t those ladies out there that he wanted, but this boy before him, young and handsome. Stan was overcome with emotion then, and in a motion that would probably have him executed, he gently grasped for Bill’s fingers. Bill stopped laughing then, but made no move to pull his hand away.

“Not really my type, if I’m honest,” Stan said, hoping to convey all that he couldn’t say in words. Bill seemed to understand what Stan was getting at, stepping even closer to him. Before he knew what he was doing, Stan gently placed a hand on the side of Bill’s face, and Bill leaned into it, sighing. Stan knew exactly then that they were on the same page, and he leaned in towards Bill, breath mingling before he closed his eyes.

Their first kiss was delicate, a dance of mouths so soft that it was almost as if it wasn’t happening. Just a gentle brush of mouths and soft breathing. But as soon as they both realized the other wanted this, it was game on. The kissing grew messy, teeth clashing and hands in each other’s hair. Stan felt his entire body warm and he pulled Bill as close as possible, but it was never enough. The kiss was a fire that Stan didn’t know he had in him, and it burned him up whole. _So this is what I was missing,_ Stan thought to himself. The passion and desire he had yearned to feel, what Ben had described as uncontrollable lust, was finally hitting him full force. He finally knew what it was that he needed.

The kiss ended much too soon for his liking, as a hand gripped his shoulder and ripped him back. Stan was shaken off from Bill, and his body instantly grew cold. Bill was a vision, hair tousled and mouth red, but his eyes were wild and terrified. Stan whipped around, and his heart finally stopped its thunder and he sighed gratefully to see it was only Ben.

“You are a fucking idiot! At the ball? Do you know how easily this could have been someone else? What if I was a princess, or worse, your dad? Jesus, Stanley, did you even think?” Ben whisper shouted, gripping his shoulder hard. Stan felt realization wash over him, and he knew Ben was right. He hadn’t been thinking. He put his own feelings before the entire future of his kingdom, and had anyone other than Ben found him, he might have been hanged before the entire kingdom.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Ben, I am so sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Stan said, and he looked down at his toes sheepishly. Ben looked over his shoulder at Bill.

“Look, Bill, I already knew about his being gay, no big deal here. And really, you seem like a nice guy. But seriously, mate? You have to be more careful, both of you are in positions where being homosexual would have you murdered,” Ben said, a little softer now, turning back to Stan. “I don’t care what you do behind locked doors, but this… this was too fucking risky,” he finished, and Stan could hear Bill sigh over his shoulder.

“I’m s-sorry, sir, I w-wasn’t thinking,” Bill said softly, and Stan felt his heart crack a little at the guilt in his tone. Stan turned to look at him. Bill looked up to meet his eyes. “I a-a-apologize, your h-highness,” Bill said, turning to leave. Stan grabbed his hand.

“Please, don’t be. I don’t… I don’t want this to be the end. I’m sorry, this was reckless, but I wouldn’t take it back,” Stan said, hoping he hadn’t scared Bill off. He smiled slowly, gentle.

“I h-have to g-go now. Good l-luck with the r-rest of the evening, your H-Highness. B-Benjamin,” Bill said with a nod, and escaped through a small door tucked behind the curtain. Stan let out the air he’d been holding, turning to look back at Ben.

“If it softens the blow you’re about to give me, I think I might have found the perfect girl to be the queen,” Stan offered up, hoping Ben wouldn’t grind down on him too harshly. Ben let out a sigh.

“Man, you are a piece of fucking work, I’ll tell you that for free. I don’t care who you fuck. It could be the entire kingdom, go right ahead! But please, for the love of God, be more careful where you do it. You could have ruined any chance of becoming king if someone had found you other than me. I support you, and I love you, no matter who you like, but please don’t get us both killed,” Ben said, and Stan felt guilty all over again.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I will be more careful, I promise.”

“And what the hell is with the opium, mate? That’s a pretty risky move, even for us. If anyone had looked to close at your eyes… fuck, Stan, what’s going on with you tonight?”

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t face all of this sober. The liquor wasn’t enough. How was I supposed to feign interest in a bunch of girls that I literally could not care less about?” Ben sighed loudly, rolling his eyes at Stan when he said this.

“Please, Stan. You have to be more careful. Seriously.” With this, Ben led Stan back out to the ballroom, running right into Stan’s father.

“Boys! Hiding off in the curtains, are we? I hope you have made your rounds, Stanley, your mother and I have been admiring some options for queen,” he said quietly, and Stanley gulped, hoping his father didn’t attribute his dishevelled looks to anything other than maybe being drunk.

“I have danced with every girl here, I can guarantee it. I think I have made a choice also. Hopefully it will coincide with you and mother?” Stan asked. His father smiled, clapping him on the back.

“You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear that. We can discuss it in a meeting tomorrow morning, man to man? Benjamin, I’d love if you’d attend also,” Stan’s father said, and Ben nodded.

“I’ll be there gladly.”

“Wonderful! Enjoy the rest of the evening lads, take advantage of being surrounded by so many lovely ladies. It doesn’t happen very often, I can tell you that from experience.” And with that, he was off, leaving the two men standing there awkwardly. Then Ben let out a laugh, and Stan gave him a funny look.

“Yeah mate, enjoy all the _lovely ladies_ at your disposal,” he said through giggles, and Stan just groaned.

“Please, find something new to hang over my head other than my sexuality,” Stan said, making Ben laugh harder.

“Oh mate, I am never going to let it go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooooohooooooooo boys! Stan the Man gets off a good one! We are in for a wild ride with him.  
> So we only have one character left to go, and our darling knight will be making an appearance very soon....  
> Let me know what you think, and come talk to me on tumblr (legendarytozier)  
> xx - Bea


	3. Nice Shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: mentions of underage sex, mentions of sexual abuse, swearing

Stan awoke to a bright beam of light smacking the back of his eyelids aggressively, and he groaned, trying to pull the covers farther over his head. He felt the familiar throbbing all around his head, and he knew the all too familiar feeling of coming down from being high _and_ drunk. It was not a feeling he was interested in engaging with today, or tomorrow, or ever, and sleeping it off seemed like the strongest course of action.

“Oh no, mister. You have to get up. It’s nearly midday; you’ve slept the whole day away,” Stan blinked his eyes open at the sound of his mother’s voice. It was rare she woke him up. It was either Ben or a servant girl; the latter was much nicer to him. To hear his mother personally waking him up meant she wanted something.

Stan sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Hello, mother. What brings you into my chambers on this fine morning?” Stan asked sarcastically, and his mother rolled her eyes. Their relationship was rocky, at best. It wasn’t that Stan didn’t love his mother, because he did, very much. But they never saw eye to eye on anything, and it felt like every step he took forward, she was there to reprimand him two steps back.

“I’m here, because I need you to be ready to speak with your father and the council in a few hours. I’m assuming you found an eligible lady to marry? That’s what this was all about; finding a queen. We need a strategic move to bring more strength to the kingdom. People are concerned on where our loyalties lay as of now, but you, my darling boy, are the key to fixing that,” she said the last little bit with a smile, but it left Stan feeling empty. Even his parents didn’t believe that it mattered if there was love in his marriage. As long as it was “strategic”, it didn’t matter if him and this girl hated one another. Frankly, his parents probably wouldn’t even care if he came out as liking boys too, as long as in the end, he married a girl. It wouldn’t matter what he did in his free time.

“Mom. I know this. You and dad spend all day bloody repeating whatever the other one said. I picked a girl, she’s lovely, I have the upmost faith she’d make an amazing queen, and I am going to tell father about it today. Please, for once, trust me,” Stan said, rolling his neck and pushing himself to sit on the edge of his bed, feet barely grazing the dark floor. He admired the whorls in the deep mahogany, and counted the strips to calm himself. He knew how many there were in his room (three thousand six hundred and ninety-four), but counting them still set his grating nerves at ease.

“I know Stanley, but you know how much this means to your father and me. To everyone. I just want to make sure you’re ready.”

“I’m not ready, mom. I’m barely 17, I am less than ready to run a kingdom. But I’m trying my fucking best, okay? I am _trying,_ ” Stan emphasized the last word, standing up to fully face his mom. She looked shocked, and opened her mouth to respond, but Stan shook his head. “Just go, please. I’ll be at the meeting, bells on. I promise.” Stan felt a little bad for the look of hurt on her face, but he had other things to be concerned with at the moment. She quietly left the room, and Stan let out the world’s longest sigh. He was so very, very tired; physically and emotionally. He wasn’t going to be able to run a kingdom if people kept on terrorizing and scrutinizing every move he made. Someone had to trust him at some point. At this point, he’d take anyone.

_____________________________________

 

Stan didn’t get to see Ben before the council meeting, which did nothing for his already frayed nerves, but was comforted when he spotted him sitting around the table, an empty seat beside him for Stan. When he took his seat, Ben leaned over to whisper into his ear.

“Hey mate, how are you feeling?”

“Like absolute shit. My head hurts, and my will to live is shrinking with every passing second.” Ben apparently thought this was funny, and laughed loudly. Stan glared at him, and sunk lower into his seat.

“I’m sorry. It just seems like every bad thing that could happen to you is happening in a span of like two weeks. Like, if it isn’t one thing, it’s another.”

“I know. Trust me, if anyone knows, it’s me. I am suffering right now.” Stan rubbed at his temples roughly, hoping to alleviate the pressure. It didn’t help.

“But hey; I’m pleased to hear that you decided on a girl. That’s a good sign. You might be able to actually pass off as a straight man,” Ben said softly so only they could hear. Stan hunched down even further. It was risky for them to be talking about this so publicly, but no one was paying any attention to them.

“I just don’t know man. I have these feelings for Bill, but this girl… it was almost as if I felt something for her too. Maybe it was just a fluke, or the drugs, but man, my heart felt something for her, I know it did,” Stan said, and Ben’s eyebrows lifted in intrigue.

“Stan the Man… maybe not so into men after all?” Ben said, but he didn’t sound judgemental. Only inquisitive.

“Is it so wrong to like both?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone who liked both, to be honest with you. I mean, seems plausible? Why not the best of both worlds?” Ben said, shrugging. It warmed Stan’s heart that his friend was so supportive of him, considering how dangerous it was to have an interest in the opposite sex. If Ben had shamed him, and made him feel disgusting for whatever feelings were overcoming him, he wasn’t sure he would be able to handle it. But as per usual, Ben took everything in stride, and took care of Stan and the situation to the best of his abilities.

Stan’s father suddenly rose from his seat, and cleared his throat roughly. Everyone shut up then, and took their places around the table. There was only a few of them together, nine, to be exact.

“Thank you all for attending on such short notice. As my most trusted advisors, I seek your council on this pressing matter. As you all know, last night’s ball was a way to introduce the various eligible ladies to my son, Stanley. I’m sure you all have your opinions on the best queen based on political ties, and I too have come up with some options, but Stanley as expressed that he has chosen himself already. Stanley, if you would,” Stan’s father gestured to the table, so he could rise and take over. Stan cleared his throat, and ran his suddenly sweaty hands over his tunic. Why was he nervous?

“Hello, everyone. I, um, I guess you’d all like to hear who I’ve chosen,” Stan laughed a little nervously, but no one moved a muscle, remaining silent. “I have intentions to ask the Princess Beverly to marry me,” the table broke into a whisper, but the king raised his hand to silence them all. “I believe she is a good fit for this kingdom, and for me. She was the only one who really had questions about me and the kingdom.”

“That’s good, but what about King Alvin?” a man asked from the far side of the table. Stan looked a little taken back. Stan didn’t know much about the King of Ireland, except that he had just passed. Murder was the apparent reason, but no one was caught.

“What about King Alvin? What happened to him was terrible, but I do not see the relevance,” Stan snapped, not really expecting resistance to his choice. Frankly, they should be happy he chose anyone at all. The man bowed deeply before the prince before continuing.

“I didn’t mean to be rude, your Highness, I was merely worried for your own safety. If someone was hoping to dismantle the Irish monarchy, then aligning with them, marrying them into us would put you in danger as well.” Stan felt bad for speaking so harshly to the man when he was clearly only looking out for Stan’s best interest.

It made sense. Everyone in Europe had their own King, but Stan’s father ruled over all of them. If someone was out to hurt the smaller monarchies, then Stan just opened the front door to them. But he just couldn’t picture having to suffer his life with any of the other ladies at the ball. Beautiful, and kind, but Stan didn’t want complacent. He wanted an equal, a challenger. Beverly was the only one who seemed incline to give him that.

“I respect your concern, but I do not think that marrying Beverly will put us in a different place than we are right now. It is clear we are in good standing with Ireland, and I don’t think it would be any great shock that we are hoping to align the two more permanently. It might even allow us to help find who did murder him,” Stan said, standing up a little taller. He was coming up with very adult like responses on the spot, and he was grateful that his brain wasn’t trying to fuck him over today. Stan’s father stood up, and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“The prince is right. A murder of one of the realm’s leaders is an attack on all of us. We should be helping them, not shying away. Stanley has made a valid argument, and I support him whole heartedly. My suggestion would be to put a personal guard on duty for Stanley and Beverly. Benjamin keeps an eye on Stan, and I know Beverly has a wonderful court gentleman by her side, but I want to have someone whose sole concern is to protect the two of them.” Stan bristled at the thought of having another person follow him around. He got lucky with Ben, and loved him very much, but what were the chances that he’d end up with _another_ great friend? Slim to none.

“I have someone who might fit the job perfectly,” a man in a silver tunic said. He had sandy brown hair and tan skin. Stan recognized him as the king of Greece. He was always very quiet, and reserved, and Stan respected him for that. His opinions were rare, but always warranted, and Stan knew his dad took everything the man said very seriously. “He’s young, and has no noble blood, but he’s the most talented man with a sword. He’s even more incredible with a bow and arrow. I’ve never seen anyone hunt like him before. He’s smart, and quick on his feet. I think he’d be a perfect fit.”

“I’d love to meet this man. Would he be arriving from Greece?” Stan’s father asked.

“Yes. I could have a raven sent for him, and he could be here in a few days, at most.” The man looked very excited, this boy he was sending must have been important to him. Stan’s father nodded once, and waved to a servant by the door.

“Take his grace to the aviary, and have a raven sent for the Greek palace. I’d like to have this boy…” The king paused and looked over at the man.

“Richard Tozier,” he said quickly.

“I’d like to have Richard here in 3 days. I’ll have a hunting trip planned; I want to see him in action. See if he’s all that he has been spoken to be. You’re all dismissed. An invitation will be sent out regarding proposal details and announcements. Good day,” Stan’s dad announced to the table and everyone bowed once before sweeping out of the room quickly to mutter amongst themselves. Stan felt a little frustrated.

“You know, dad, you could teach me how to wield a sword properly. Then I wouldn’t need a guard, I could protect myself,” Stan said, crossing his arms. His dad smiled.

“Don’t you worry, I plan to have you trained in combat as well. Sometimes it’s just nice to have someone watch your back, so that you can focus on other things, like an impending marriage.” Stan couldn’t argue with that, but he still wasn’t too keen on another shadow.

“Can I come with you on this hunting trip? I’d like to meet this boy too,” Stan said, and his father looked shocked.

“Are you sure? You never want to go hunting. I mean, I’m more than happy to have you come, but I could always just set up a meeting here…” But Stan shook his head.

“No. I too would like to see him in action. I can handle a little hunting, dad. I don’t love it, but I’ll be there to watch anyways, not actually kill anything. Besides, it gives me a chance to get out riding,” Stan said. He loved horseback riding, and it gave him time to clear his head. He was rather good at it, too.

“Okay, that works with me. I’m assuming Ben will be there are well?” He said, looking over Stan’s shoulder to see Ben and his father talking by the door. Stan rolled his eyes but smiled.

“When does he ever not go with you? You know he could never turn down a hunt, he’s too bloody competitive,” Stan laughed, and his father joined in. It was true. It was the only time Ben ever actually slipped out of his formal attitude around Stan’s father. He was determined to make more kills than him, always. It made the king happy to have a little challenge; no one else ever made an effort to beat him at anything.

“Alright. Well, I’ll have your horses ready to go that morning-” but Stan shook his head.

“No, that’s alright. I’d like to saddle her myself, if I could?” The king nodded, and clapped his son on the back again. His face softened considerably.

“I’m proud of you, Stan. This was a big move today, and you seem to have really matured in the last few months. I have plenty of faith that you will make a great leader,” he said, before walking off. Stan was in shock. It was rare that his father gave him any sort of formal praise; he was more likely to get a smile or a nod every once in a while, as an indicator that he was doing things right. It was touching to hear him actually appreciate Stan. Ben walked over then, looking a little shaken.

“You alright, mate?” Stan asked, tilting his head to look a Ben. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“I, uh, yeah, I’m alright. You didn’t mention it was lady Beverly that you were choosing?” Ben said, avoiding eye contact. Stan’s eyebrows came together in confusion.

“We didn’t really have time to chat? We were kind of trying to deflect that my dad almost caught me kissing a boy? I would have told you if I’d seen you before the meeting. Why does it matter?” Stan asked. Ben shook his head.

“It doesn’t! I was just wondering!” Ben said, way too quickly. Stan knew something was up, but it wasn’t like Ben to look so shaken up, so he wasn’t sure to how to get him to open up.

“Okay… you’re coming on that hunting trip, right?” Stan asked, trying to change the subject. Ben’s shoulders loosened a bit, but he shook his head again.

“I can’t. Dad says we have too many things to organize here, proposal and all. You’re on your own for this one.” Ben smiled a little then, and finally looked him in the eye. “I really wish I was going, though. You’ll have to fill me in on this Richard guy. I want to hear all about it when you get back,” Ben’s casual demeanor was back, and Stan simply brushed his attitude off on being shaken with the reality of his best friend getting married. It was pretty fucking scary, if they were going to be honest.

“Of course, I’m going to tell you. You’ll be the first to hear how much of a bore he is to have following me around,” Stan laughed and Ben leaned in to wrap an arm around his shoulders, steering him out of the council room.

“Thank god. No one is as fun as me,” Ben said, and the two smiled at each other, feeling normalcy settle back around them. Things were going to be okay.

Maybe.

_____________________________________

 

Beverly laid sprawled out on the fluffy quilted blankets, wearing nothing but her lacy undergarments. Her short red hair was fluffy, and her best friend, Eddie, was running his fingers through it, as she stared mindlessly at the ceiling. Her lips felt swollen, and she knew that she was going to have a hickey on her chest that she’d have to be sure not to let her other ladies in waiting see. They’d have an absolute fit, and she knew the gossip would find its way back to her mother, which would not go over well.

“I’m not ready to get married, Eddie. That sounds like absolute fucking torture. I haven’t seen enough of the world yet to be tied down!” Bev whined, flipping an arm over her eyes. Eddie sighed, and rolled his eyes at her dramatics.

“You weren’t so against getting married last night,” Eddie’s voice suddenly got high, “Oh Eddie, you should have seen him dance! He was so dreamy and kind and I could have stayed with him all night!” He said, and laughed loudly when Beverly groaned into her other arm. She knew she had been in a dreamy haze after dancing with the prince, and he had won her over instantly. But this morning, when she had awoken, she felt guilty and nervous. What if he really _did_ pick her to be his queen? What would she do then? Could she still travel? What about Eddie? Would he have to stay in Ireland while she moved to England? The thought broke her heart. “Besides, what makes you think he’s going to pick you? I love you, but this sounds like your ego talking”.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, it might not happen. But it felt like we had a connection, you know? Like he had looked right into my very soul. No, I’m serious! It felt like we were the only ones in the whole ballroom,” Beverly said, refusing to look at Eddie’s obviously smirking face. She had felt something for Stan, she knew she had. But she wasn’t sure what it was. Love? No, way too soon for that. Mutual hate for palace life? Definitely. A kinship? Very possible. She was just suddenly very nervous that this was all happening so fast. Her 17th birthday was just around the corner, only days away, and she felt like it was a death sentence at the same time. All her dreams; crushed, suddenly being tied in this palace to push out more royal babies. It was… horrifying, and Bev wanted to retch at the thought.

“Is that why you called me in here, to fuck the worry out of you?” Eddie asked, softly. He wasn’t meaning to make her feel bad; they both knew their little trysts were meant for stress relief and curing boredom, nothing more. But Beverly still felt guilty that Eddie always came to her aid. She wasn’t even his type, like, _at all_.

“I’m sorry Eds. I’m so fucking worked up over all of this. I just want to be happy, and not such a bundle of anxiety all the bloody time. I want to feel wanted, and I keep taking that out on you,” Bev said, tears slipping out of her eyes. Eddie shifted their bodies so she was in his arms and looking him in the eyes.

“Beverly Marsh. Don’t you dare say that this is all for you. I’m as sexually frustrated as you are, and despite the fact that you’re not the gender I’m looking for, I have _fun._ I’m having a good time with you. It’s playful, and silly, and awkward, but it brings us together. If I wanted to stop, I would have. And if you wanted to stop, I’d hope you’d say something too,” Eddie said, brushing Bev’s hair out of her eyes. She smiled up at him, grateful for his presence, in all aspects of her life.

Eddie and Beverly had met when Eddie’s parents, two high born lords who assisted King Alfred, had died. Apparently, Eddie’s father had succumbed to some horrible illness, and Sonia Kaspbrak couldn’t handle life without him. She had killed herself, and left an absolutely shaken and nervous little Edward behind. Frank and Sonia had been so helpful around the castle, that Alvin and Elfrida couldn’t help but adopt their terrified little boy. At first, any minor pain or injury would leave Eddie in the sick ward for days, terrified that he too was dying of whatever his father had. But it was never true, and Beverly was always tender and understanding of his fears, making sure the nurses listened to his every concern, no matter how crazy. One day, when they were 15, Eddie had come to her crying, begging her to sleep with him, that he felt dirty and he needed her. She had been shocked, but complied, thinking of how maybe if someone else touched her, then when her father did it, it wouldn’t be so terrible and painful. It had been messy, and uncomfortable, and they had both cried after, spilling their secrets. Eddie; that he didn’t like girls at all, and Beverly; that Eddie wasn’t the first boy to touch her. Their friendship had been solidified after that, but their sexual encounters hadn’t stopped. It was a release for both; their anger, their sadness, their _disgust_ for themselves, it was all gone when they came together. Beverly had asked why Eddie wanted to still have sex with her, even though he didn’t like girls. He had just shrugged, saying he loved Bev, and he loved being with Bev, but she was probably the only exception he’d ever make. He still dreamt of boys. Beverly wasn’t sure she understood, but she didn’t push him farther on it. Since those days, Eddie had shifted away from his constant fear of sickness and disease, but Beverly’s encounters with her father were still brutal. She was sure her mother knew, but never said anything, for fear of the backlash. Eddie always came by after, tending to her wounds just as she had his. Beverly was worried that now that her father was dead, Eddie was going to drift away from her, but he hadn’t gone anywhere. They were made for each other; two sick kids, with no one else to save them.

“I know. I’m sorry Eddie. I love you,” she said, kissing his wrist has it brushed past her face. He smiled back at her.

“I know you do. If it makes you feel any better, I think the prince is gay anyways. Maybe he won’t tie you down after all,” Eddie said nonchalantly, but Bev shot up out of his lap.

“What did you say?” she asked, and Eddie looked as if she had her head chopped off.

“What? That the prince is gay? I thought it was obvious,” he said, clearly shocked by Bev’s reaction. She sprung up from the bed, and started pacing at the foot.

“Gay? What? I thought we had some sort of connection. I felt it, I… he looked at he like I was desirable, I know he did,” Beverly said, more to herself than to Eds, but he stood up anyways, grasping her wrists.

“Bev, look at me. It’s not a confirmed thing. I heard whispers through the grape vine, you know how I find out these things,” Eddie said, and Bev nodded. Eddie had a knack for knowing the gossip on _everyone._ He knew their secrets before they did, and was always up to date on the drama of the entire kingdom. He was rarely wrong. “Besides, who cares? You and I make it work, really quite spectacularly, I might add,” he pulled her face up to look at him then, smiling sheepishly. He had only just recently surpassed Beverly in height, and was revelling in how happy he was to not be the small one anymore.

“I know we do, but that’s us. What if Stan isn’t actually interested in women, and I’m forced to marry him, and live in constant agony moping around the castle?” Beverly said, suddenly very concerned. Eddie shook his head.

“That wouldn’t happen, you’re too fun to be around. You said it yourself, there was a spark between you two. I’m probably wrong, Bev, I just thought I’d heard something going around. Probably just dumb whispers. Look at me,” he leaned forward to press their noses together. “Please do not fret about this.” Bev nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. She let Eddie pull her back to the bed, and they cuddle up under the covers. “If anyone should be panicking about you getting asked to marry the prince, it should be me. I’m going to have to go out and actually _look_ for sex. It won’t just be waiting for me at the end of the day!” Eddie said, faking a dramatic gasp and pressing his hand to his chest. Beverly just laughed, and smacked him lightly.

“Oh please. I feel like you’ll have some sort of sexual awakening when you start sleeping with people you actually like. It’ll be amazing,” Bev said, giggling into her hand.

“But Bev, honey, you know you’re just like a boy to me! Look at this short hair! If I squint, you might as well be the man of my dreams.” Beverly smacked Eddie again, a little harder this time, and he laughed loudly. She huffed and crossed her arms. “I’m kidding. You’re very feminine. Don’t let me screwing you dismiss that thought,” Eddie smiled at her, and she finally smiled back. They had a dynamic that would make anyone else absolutely faint with disgust, but Beverly was happy. She didn’t want things to change. Unfortunately, that was exactly what was going to happen.

_____________________________________

 

The past few days had gone by rather uneventfully, Stan going through the motions almost painfully bored. Him and Ben had gone through a few sword-fighting lessons, and Stan was surprised to learn that he wasn’t half bad at it. Ben still knocked him on his ass every time, but he was happy to see that he would be able to learn quickly.

When the day of the hunting trip arrived, Stan was up very early. He slipped into his most comfortable pair of riding pants, and a grey long-sleeved shirt. He had a sword strapped to his waist, although he wasn’t sure he was good enough to hold his own in combat, but it made him feel safe nonetheless.

Escaping through the side doors before the sun even rose, Stan walked quickly to the stables. The air was still cold and dewy, and a deep breath in made his lungs feel like they’d been breathing only sawdust before today. Stan made a note to get outside more often; it did wonders for his mental stability. Approaching the stall that held his horse, Stan smiled to himself. She was young; a gift for his 15th birthday. She was a soft beige Lipizzan, with a white mane and tail. Stan loved her more than most things around the kingdom, but he didn’t get to escape the bustle of everyday tasks to ride her enough, and he didn’t plan on making an appearance on many more hunting trips. It was too bad, because the two had bonded pretty closely, and rode really well together. Should the two of them ever face battle, Stan had faith that she would carry him through till the end.

Stan made quick work of getting her brushed and saddled, a few stable boys smiling and bowing as they went about readying everyone else’s horses. Stan smiled back, waving at a few that he recognized by name. They went about their work, chatting amongst one another and moving equipment about. The sound was soothing to Stan, and he settled into the comfortable aura.

Stan became so lost in his own little world he almost didn’t realize that everything had gone silent, and he went to lean out of the stall he was in. He almost shrieked when he saw what was going on at the end of the barn. A midnight black horse stood at there, easily taller than any other horse in the barn. Stan recognized it as an Arabian, very rare in this part of the world. It was intimidating, and Stan knew they were horses bred for battle; they could run for miles and miles without stopping, and their stamina went unmatched. Once Stan finally tore his eyes away from the massive creature, they settled on the man holding the reins.

Standing on the ground, talking with a stable boy was one of the most striking guys Stan had ever seen. He had dark curly hair, and tan skin. He was absurdly tall, like his horse, and thin. He might have been lanky, but Stan could see his back muscles from the other end of the stable. His upper body was strong, a sign of someone who often fought from horseback and not on the ground. He had a quiver strapped on, full of arrows with light blue feathers on the end, and a bow was in his other hand, impossibly large and black. Stan thought that this mystery person had to be a god of death. He radiated an energy that commanded fear, but seemed calm and aloof. He was obviously not from their kingdom, so Stan put on his brave face and went to face the stranger as a prince should. As he got closer, Stan heard the stable boy telling him where he could find feed and water, and brushes for his horse. The man thanked him, and turned in Stan’s direction. His face was kinder than Stan expected, and there was a light speckling of freckles there. A smirk spread across the guy’s face, and Stan crossed his arms with a scowl as he approached.

“I don’t recognize you. Who are you?” Stan said sourly. The man gave a deep bow, sweeping the arm with the bow across his chest.

“Name’s Richie Tozier, of the Greek Isles. You must be the Crown Prince, Stanley. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Richie said, lifting his body back up to its impossible height. Stan realized this guy couldn’t be older than 18, barely a fraction older than Stan. He might have been tall, and his voice may have been deep, but he had a very young face. Stan noticed that one of his eyes was greyed over; a sign of blindness.

“That would be me. You’re the knight that is coming on our hunting trip,” Stan said, uncrossing his arms and softening his voice. This guy, who was blind, was the famous archer from Greece? Stan was skeptical.

“Yes, I guess so. Got a fancy royal letter in the mail summoning my presence. Not really sure why though. Do you know?” Richie asked, genuinely curious.

“You’re in talks to be my personal guard.”

“Oh, damn, I would have gotten here sooner if that was the deal! Following you around all day? I better put my best effort into today!” Richie said, smirk returning and winking. Stan scoffed and crossed his arms back over himself. The compliment was small, and not appropriate towards the prince, and Stan felt… fuzzy, all over. It was rare to hear someone talk so openly about the same gender.

Stan had heard the rumours about Greece. They were much more open and accepting about sexuality. People could have sex with whomever they wanted, and often it was a very public act. The thought made Stan blush; it wasn’t like that in his culture, those kinds of things were private. Richie didn’t look Greek, by even a long shot, but he had that exuding sexual aura about him, confidence in abundance.

“Well, I guess today is your lucky day then. We leave in a few hours, best be ready by then.” Stan made to walk back to his stall, but Richie kept right up with him, walking beside him. His horse moved quietly for one so large.

“Which one is yours?” Richie asked, admiring all the horses in the stalls. Stan pointed to his as they approached, and unlocked the gate to slip inside. Richie stood leaned on the door, and watched as Stan put on her bridle and tied the reins up. “What’s her name?”

“Leto,” Stan said quietly.

“The Greek titan of motherhood, married to Zeus, gave birth to Artemis and Apollo. Interesting.” Stan was shocked to hear Richie knew where that name came from, but then again, he was Greek.

“What about yours?” Stan asked, nodding to his horse. Richie smiled, chin still resting on the stall gate.

“Hypnos, Greek god of sleep, son of Nyx and Erebus.” Stan snorted at that.

“Seems we both have a taste for Greek names,” Stan whispered.

“I mean, to be fair, that is who I am. What does interest me, however, is how you know about the Greek gods,” Richie asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I find your culture intriguing. I find all cultures other than my own intriguing. I wish I could see all these kingdoms that come to visit me for myself,” Stan said, before slapping a hand over his mouth. That was way too much information for a stranger.

But Richie merely laughed. “Well, I promise, if I do get to be your guard, I will take you to visit the four corners of the world. Starting with Greece,” he said, and it held so much sincerity that Stan had to turn and look at him. He didn’t appear to be lying, and they didn’t drop eye contact for a long time. Heat curled in Stan’s stomach, and he couldn’t remember feeling like this. Even when he had kissed Bill, there wasn’t the same fire growing within himself. That feeling was softer, kinder, and if it had a colour, it was baby blue. This was dark, and rapid, burning red in front of his eyes. Finally, after Richie raised a brow, Stan looked away. He was grateful, because just then, Stan’s father walked in, flanked by a few guards and lords who were also attending.

“Stanley, good to see you’re all ready to go,” his father paused to look at Richie, who had straightened up from the stall. “Who are you?”

“Richard Tozier, your Highness.” Richie bowed deeply, and Stan noticed how he called himself Richard in front of the king, but Richie in front of Stan. It was a small thing, but Stan liked that they shared that information between them, like Stan was already closer to him and more deserving of his nickname.

“Ah, yes, the archer from Greece. I heard many great things about you. I’m intrigued to see how you are in the field,” Stan’s father said, and waved to a stable boy to bring over his horse. “Let’s have a great hunt today, yes?” Everyone mounted their horses, and they took off through the kingdom to the forest.

_____________________________________

 

Stan was surprised to find that he was enjoying himself. Richie hung back for the most part, chatting with Stan while the other men tried, and mostly failed, to hit various small creatures and birds. Stan liked to watch them take off and evade the arrows and spears, naming them all for Richie, who listened intently. He had yet to pull the bow off his back and actually fire at something, but Stan wasn’t angry about it. He was enjoying their conversation. Apparently, Richie _wasn’t_ Greek, but was adopted from a slaver’s ship that had stopped in Greece for supplies. They had almost not bothered with him, considering his buggered eye, but the king had seen something in him. He sent him through knight training, and although he had been pretty good with a sword, it was his archery that went unmatched. Turns out, most people close their second eye when they fire from a bow anyways, so Richie didn’t need the other one. He practiced until he was perfect, until he could hunt in the dark and didn’t really need either of his eyes. That was his favourite; going out in the dark, using his ears as a guide through the trees, experiencing the world through the other senses. Stan thought that was really neat, and did the unthinkable.

He asked Richie to take him. On a hunting trip.

Willingly.

Hell might have frozen over at that point, but Richie only beamed and promised him that as soon as summer came, they could go night hunting. And they wouldn’t kill any birds.

Stan thought he might have fallen in love.

“Richard!” Stan’s father’s voice shook them from their reverie, and gestured to the trees. A sign that he wanted to see this skill that Richie apparently possessed. He gave Stan a look, shrugged his shoulders, and rode forward. He was quiet, as was everyone else. They wandered a little farther before Richie held up a hand, and everyone stopped. He pulled an arrow from his quiver painstakingly slow, and lined it up in the bow. He clicked his tongue once, and his horse made a loud whinnying noise. A group of rabbits shot out from behind a tree and Richie fired away, pulling arrows so fast that Stan couldn’t even see his hand move. After he was done, Richie hopped down and gathered his arrows, and the rabbits, in a satchel.

He had hit every single one, without so much as a struggle. And every single arrow went through the eye.

Richie handed the back to one of the guards, and the king clapped loudly. “That was incredible, Richard! Not even one escaped! And we’ll have a lovely dinner tonight! Colour me impressed,” he said, and Richie smiled, nodding once before climbing back up on his horse.

Stan didn’t like hunting, but in that moment, he made a promise to go on every trip that Richie ever did. The way his muscles had flexed under his black shirt, and he had never seen anyone have aim like that, even those who practiced on unmoving targets. His skill was, dare Stan say it, _attractive_. He gulped, and smiled weakly as Richie came back to walk alongside him again.

“You’re very good,” Stan said, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. This made Richie sit up a little straighter.

“Thanks. I had to learn pretty quick. Honestly, I like it a lot. It’s a weapon with a lot of gamble, unlike a sword that never leaves your hand. And I like to consider myself a gambling man,” he said, turning to look at Stan out the corner of his eye at this moment. Stan refused to acknowledge Richie’s stare, but he could feel it boring holes into his skull, and a blush forced its way onto his neck and cheeks.

“Alright everyone, I think we’re all set for today. I would like to invite you all to a rabbit dinner later this evening, thanks to Richie’s impeccable shot. Thomas, if you could show Richard where he’ll be staying in the castle. You’re all dismissed,” the king said, and all the men bowed on their horses before turning away. Richie bowed also, but turned to nod at Stan.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you later,” he spoke softly, and Stan smiled at him.

“Of course. Enjoy the rest of your day,” he said, and Richie took off, his horse disappearing quickly over the side of the hill. Stan watched him go, until his father came up beside him.

“I like him a lot. That shot was incredible, every single one, right through the bloody eye. And you seemed to like him too?” His father asked cautiously, turning to look at Stan. Stan nodded once.

“I do. He’s kind, and smart. And I certainly didn’t miss those shots. He’s really good with that bow,” Stan spoke softly, still staring in the direction of Richie. There was no denying it; he felt a spark with Richie. He liked Bill, and he wanted to see him again more than most things, but it was different with Richie. There was a fire there, and Stan wasn’t sure he was ready to put it out before he even got a good look at it. And what about Beverly? He was about to _marry her._ He knew that he liked her too, felt her spark lift joy through his chest, and it was just as different from the other two. There were a lot of feelings Stan had to work through, and fast. The confusion sent an uneasiness through him, and Stan felt dirty, like he needed to wash his hands a set amount of times, and organize his bookshelf again. He needed order, and control; these feelings were giving him the exact opposite of that. He took a deep breath in, and tried to steady his heart rate.

“Well, I’m glad, because I think I’m going to offer him the spot as your royal guard. Does that seem like something you’d be happy with?” The king asked, and Stan sucked in another weak breath. He knew that Richie would be given the spot, he was amazing and Stan obviously liked him, but it didn’t cross Stan’s mind how much time they’d be spending together. And from the sounds of it at the council meeting, it was going to be a lot.

“Yes, I am content with that choice,” Stan all but wheezed out, and his father smiled, promising to see him at dinner, before setting off towards the direction of the castle. Stan dropped his head and wrung his hands once, twice, three times.

He was so very, very screwed.


End file.
